25. Ryan
25
Ryan
Over the last six weeks, Thomas has questioned me relentlessly on whether I’m doing the right thing, but no matter how many times he does it, I’m determined in my answers.
“Are you certain you’re not jumping into this too soon?” he asked me last week.
“No. Not at all. I’m not certain of anything,” I replied. “But then”—and I softened my tone—“Mom and Dad probably had no doubts that they were coming back from vacation still breathing and not in coffins, Thomas. If anything, we know more than most that life’s too short for certainty.”
My brother looked at me for a long moment, and with a light shrug, he smiled and nodded. “You’re right.” He then smirked. “You know, you’re smarter than you look.”
We both broke into chuckles then, and Thomas wrapped his arms around me. It wasn’t the first hug I’d had from him since the whole newspaper debacle, and no doubt, it won’t be the last.
Now, though, the day before Christmas, I’m standing in the freezing cold gardens of the estate. Behind me, wrapped up to the nines and sitting in rows of beautifully decorated chairs, are the vast population of Maple Springs, my teammates, and Emma’s family. Beside me stand my two best men, Steve and John, and in front of me stands Father Phillips, our small town’s local priest.
When the music starts, I hear everyone behind me standing while Steve and John beam huge grins in my direction. My stomach is in knots, my heart pounds in my chest, and I wait in anticipation for Emma to finally stand by my side.
It feels like forever, but eventually, she’s here, her arm linked with Jimmy’s, who agreed to give her away.
I swallow hard as I look down at her. That beautiful red hair is fixed intricately on her head, long tendrils framing her face. Draped around her shoulders is a fur shawl, and beneath it, a stunning white dress with more detail than I can take in right now. But I don’t care about the dress, I’m too busy gazing at her adoringly. Her face is glowing as she gazes back, and taking a step towards me, we face Father Phillips as he tells everyone to be seated.
When it’s all over, I bend and kiss her tenderly.
“I love you, Emma Steele,” I breathe.
“I love you right back,” she whispers.
There’s a huge marquee tent set up close to the frozen lake, and after photographs, everyone makes their way inside. Tall metal cages with blazing fires are positioned strategically to keep the guests warm, string lights hang from the ceiling, beautifully decorated tables and chairs sit on a hard-wearing carpet that’s been laid over the cleared grass beneath, and a stage is set up on the far end.
Guests are helping themselves to drinks when Phil moves to my side. “So, no big fancy wedding, then?” he says with a broad grin.
“We didn’t want that.”
“I know,” he says. “And I’m glad.” He sweeps his head across the room. “This is far better.”
“Any trouble spinning it?” I ask.
Phil looks almost insulted. “Are you kidding me? I spun a yarn about the town being disappointed that they hadn’t been able to share in your wedding celebrations, and so, you and Emma decided to do it all again for their benefit.”
I smirk. “Which is exactly what the rest of the town thinks. And what about the other thing?”
“I’m on it.” Phil nods. “The papers are being drafted, and she’s being served next month.”
“And what are you boys whispering about?” Emma says, sneaking in between the two of us from behind.
Phil looks caught out, pins on a smile, wraps his arm around her shoulder, and kisses her on the cheek. “Hello, beautiful. You look sensational.”
“Hey, easy there, tiger,” I warn playfully.
Phil grins back at me.
“He’s very protective,” Emma says, looking almost sorry for me.
“Yes, I can see that.”
Phil has already started proceedings against Megan. I will tell Emma, but not yet. I want her to enjoy our wedding and then relax on our honeymoon without that kind of thing flying around her head.
We’re ushered to the front when it’s time to cut the cake. The top decoration has already evoked a few laughs. It depicts Emma whacking me over the head with a hockey stick. Very cute!
“Your idea?” I say as we stand close together, holding the knife for the photographs.
She shrugs nonchalantly. “I thought it was fitting.” And then she giggles, that beautiful sound trickling from her lips that always makes my heart lurch. But I have a little surprise of my own for her later, and I can’t wait.
There’s a kerfuffle at the other end of the tent, and what starts off as one person yelling turns into a great rumble of noise. Emma and I hurry toward the entrance, wondering what on Earth is going on.
Everyone’s piled outside now, and I watch in astonishment as my teammates grapple a guy to the floor.
“What the heck is going on?” I yell.
“Paparazzi,” someone replies.
“Gerroff me,” the guy yells. “Let me go.”
“Not a chance,” Levinski, one of our centers, growls. The guys are all pretty strong, but Levinski isn’t someone to mess with, which makes this all the more pleasurable for me to watch.
Everyone is now out of the tent, cheering the guys on as they march across the gardens with this guy hitched on their shoulders like a carpet.
“Out. Out. Out,” everyone chants.
When the guys move out of sight, we all pile back into the heat.
“Well, that was exciting,” Emma breathes, her cheeks glowing from the cold.
“And this is just the beginning,” I say with a grin, leaning down and brushing my lips against hers.
When the guys get back from taking out the trash, the caterers serve the four-course dinner, and laughter and conversation fill the air while a string quartet plays mood music in the background. And then it’s time for the speeches.
“When I first heard that Ryan was planning on marrying Emma,” Steve says, “I took Emma to the side and asked her if she needed to go and see a doctor.” A low chuckle ripples through the room. “Or at least an ophthalmologist.”
More laughter while Emma giggles beside me.
Steve’s grinning over at me while I smirk and shake my head. “Funny guy,” I mouth.
“Emma’s an educated woman. She could have any guy she wants, which is why I was so worried.” The audience is now tittering. “But hey, she told me her eyesight was fine, so who am I to judge?” Steve grins over at me. “Seriously, though”—he looks at me in a way that only I know, and that reminds me of the bond we’ve shared for years—“this guy has been my friend since high school. In the first couple of years, I didn’t have a great time, and it was Ryan who helped me get through it. He got me into sports, helped me with my school work, and really carried me through.”
Emma glances up at me with a soft but surprised smile. She still doesn’t know everything about me.
“And all I can say is, I couldn’t be happier that he’s now found love with Emma. Even though I still think she needs glasses.”
The audience laughs and claps, and Steve gives me a look. I wink back and nod.
When all the speeches are over, Emma and I move to the dance floor for the first dance. When “Eternal Flame” by the Bangles starts playing, Emma suddenly giggles.
“You didn’t?”
“I did.” I grin down at her. “I figured, it was kinda our song.”
She gazes up at me, her face beaming with a huge grin. “I suppose it is. Though it is the cheesiest song in the history of cheesy songs.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” I tilt my head. “It could be worse.”
“No.” She shakes her head. “I don’t think so.”
“What about Bryan Adams, ‘Everything I Do, I Do It For You?’ Or ‘I Just Called to Say I Love You’ by Stevie Wonder?”
“Oh, no,” she balks. “You’re getting your cheese mixed up with your classics.”
“Will you just shut up and enjoy our dance?” I say, grinning down at her.
She grins then. “Alright.”
Later on, I disappear from the marquee tent and get ready for Emma’s big surprise.
*****
Emma
A bunch of caterers begin removing panels from one side of the tent, and I’m starting to get confused.
“What’s going on? Where’s Ryan?”
Thomas slides up beside me, and with a knowing smile, he says, “He just had to step out.”
“And this?” I gesture to the marquee tent that’s now completely open on one side.
“I don’t know,” Thomas says, clearly lying and not trying to hide it. “Let’s go look, shall we?”
Our guests have been instructed to gather at the large space that looks out over the garden, and leading me by my elbow, Thomas guides me to the front.
At first, nothing happens, and then music begins to play. I can’t quite catch the first few bars, but then I recognize the song. “Can’t Stop the Feeling” by Justin Timberlake.
A second later, bright colored lights splash onto the frozen lake, and I gasp and squeal, along with everybody else. Ryan and all his teammates are on the ice. They’re dressed in identical black suits, white shirts, and black ties.
In complete synchronicity, they start to dance, their arms flicking, bodies moving, skating in circles with the beat…
While everyone is cheering and whooping, I’m jumping up and down on the crisp snow beneath my feet, my heart exploding out of my chest. The guys move as one, not faltering once, hitting every note perfectly on the beat.
All of us are now dancing with them, but nowhere near as well. When the chorus hits, the guys jump high in the air, land on the beat, and groove it to perfection.
At this point, the whole team crouches to the ice and stops, eliciting a whoop from us all. Then they carry on, hitting their routine as good as old Justin himself. When the guitar bridge hits, Ryan dance-walks to the edge of the lake and beckons me out to him.
I shake my head, but with a gentle push from Thomas, I go to him. The beat is still going, and the guys behind him still dance. When I’m at the edge of the lake, Ryan takes me by the hands.
“Do you trust me?” he pants, his hot breath floating in clouds of condensation.
I nod in giddy trepidation.
“Okay. Hold on tight.”
Wrapping his arms around my waist, he lifts me up and skates back onto the ice to a roaring cheer from our guests behind us. My arms are wrapped around his neck, and his arms grip around my waist, and then he gently spins me. I’m laughing, my stomach is doing somersaults, and my legs hang freely beneath me.
The music goes on and on as we spin gently round and round, and in that moment, I know my life will be one adventure after another. When the music stops, the lights cut out, and Ryan brings us to a halt. The guests go nuts, but the sound fades into the background as Ryan lowers his head and softly kisses me.
Then above all the noise behind us, he whispers, “You’re the best thing to ever happen to me, Emma. I’m going to love you until the end of time.”